


Charm Children

by CloudyDayJoy



Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: All of the children are tragic in one way or another, And yes I refer to the pets as children, Canonical Child Abuse, Child Abandonment, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Neglect, Child Suicide, Childhood Trauma, Gen, child endangerment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27497746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudyDayJoy/pseuds/CloudyDayJoy
Summary: Drabbles exploring the relationship between Ghost, the Weaverlings, the Aspid-Vessel hatchlings, and Grimmchild. Ghost feels a sense of kinship with them based on parallels they've drawn between their children and the vessels.
Relationships: The Hatchlings & The Knight, The Weaverlings & The Knight (Hollow Knight)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41





	1. Hatchlings

The knight adored all their children, but the hatchlings brought them a special type of joy that couldn't be replicated. For it was the first time they could remember seeing a face like their own on a living creature. Have they even met another of their own kind? Was there a reason why their memory of before they left Hollowmest was sealed away?

The hatchlings wearing their face retained the aggressive, self-destructive instincts of the aspids their charm was modelled after. The knight found this out the hard way as their children flung themselves at enemies at even the slightest provocation for marginal amounts of damage. They rushed to the nearest bench before any more hatchlings could sacrifice themselves for their parent.

Nothing was worth the cost of seeing the lifeless eyes that looked so much like their own staring back at them. Even saving all of Hallownest wouldn't be worth it. No baby should have to put their life on the line. They would say no child, but they were a child too, so it would be a tad hypocritical. 

Seeing their corpses brought back glimpses of their past, with only their feelings at the time well preserved. A dark place that reeked of death and desperation. Countless shattered masks as far as the eye could see, all of which were almost identical to their own. No, not masks. Heads. And a cold light above, luring them to their deaths.

Thick globs of void leaked from from the knight's eyes, dripping to the ground below. They couldn't— and wouldn't— watch any more hatchlings throw their lives away for their sake. They stared back at the remaining hatchlings, wondering if unequipping their charm counted as murder. 

But if it kept more hatchlings from being born to die, it was a sacrifice they had to make. The only one they would ask of the survivors. How much of a difference would it make for them when they would kill themselves the instant they spotted another husk? Why was the knight forced to think in terms of numbers of lives lost instead of the effect on individual hatchlings?

The hatchlings, like all their charm's effects, vanished the instant they unpinned the Glowing Womb from their cloak. They would like to think that they simply went elsewhere to peacefully enjoy the rest of the long lives ahead of them. But reality wasn't so kind. They knew that they just ended their own children's existences.


	2. Weaverlings

Ghost— the knight who had recently adopted Hornet's moniker for them as a name— didn't plan on bringing any more children with them on their journey after what happened with the hatchlings. But there was no one else to escort the Weaverlings to Hornet. They were filled with hope that her village could be brought back to life, and she wouldn't have to be so sad anymore. Sure, there were only three Weaverlings, but if they were alive, there could be others. Maybe the uninfected adult Weaver they saw out of the corner of their eye wasn't their imagination.

Ghost decided to show the Weaverlings to the Midwife before tracking down Hornet. They didn't know how to raise children. The Midwife didn't seem to have enough food to even support herself so it didn't feel right to hand her three more mouths to feed, but she could teach them how to care for them. 

But the Midwife didn't react like they expected. She only talked about the Weavers' skills which, while interesting, wasn't particularly helpful. They visited her several times to try to pry the information they desperately needed from her, and even brought her a dead grub mimic as a bribe. But she was only interested in taking a bite out of them.

Ghost eventually gave up on getting any help from the Midwife. If they kept it up it was only a matter of time before both they and the children would be gobbled up. Their only option was to go towards the Grave of Ash Hornet mentioned in hopes of encountering her there.

It took ages to figure out where that was. They combed almost the entirety of Hollownest before coming to cliffs coated with a warm, softly glowing snow. Yet this place didn't smell like any volcanic area they've ever been to. Closer inspection revealed that it wasn't ash either, but some kind of moult. Even they— someone who had been to the Dung Defender's home— were disgusted. But they had to continue onwards.

Ghost's mood instantly brightened when they saw a flash of red in the distance, and they dashed towards her with the Weaverlings snuggled in their arms. Yet Hornet ignored the children and declared that she would test their strength. She continued on as Ghost desperately signed their intentions, and they started to realize that her speech was too rehearsed to allow any flexibility. So, in lieu of a voice, they summoned a group of howling wraiths to get her attention.

It worked, at the cost of enraging Hornet. She stormed over to them, which caused them to flinch before they noticed that she hadn't drawn her needle.

"What's your problem!?", Hornet yelled, displaying a glimpse behind her composed exterior. 

Ghost nudged the Weaverlings off them so they could sign to her. "What about the children!?" They stomped their feet for emphasis as they pointed at the Weaverlings.

Hornet was taken aback when she recognized their movements from the communication dances the Hive used, even if it wasn't the same. It took her a few moments to move past the sorrow she felt when reminded of her dearly departed mentor and process what Ghost told them.

"What children?" Hornet asked, with her head tilted to the side. "I only see relics of a tribe who fled this accursed land long ago."

It was Ghost's turn to be confused. Where was her joy, her realization that she hadn't been left alone? Their silent stare urged her to explain.

"These…" Hornet started as she picked one up to take a closer look. "...are only constructs." Although she started to wonder what only meant when the vessel in front of her clearly had the mind to think about the fate of her people, the will to act without instructions, and a voice gifted to them by a foreign hive. Were they really just an object?

"No, there's no qualifiers." Hornet corrected herself in light of her realization, as she forced herself to store the implications at the back of her mind for later analysis. "Their artificial births don't make them lesser. But these Weaverlings aren't true Weavers, despite how similar they appear. They're something different, although I'm not sure exactly what."

"Now, are you prepared to show me that you can accept this kingdom's sins and take responsibility for its future? Are you aware of the circumstances of your creation, or have you sealed it away in your mind as many of your siblings have? Retreat, if you feel a need to ready yourself."

The truth behind the weavers was already too much to take in on its own. The sliver of hope they dug up was only an illusion. Hornet. But when they added in her implying that she knew about their past, they were over their limit. They eagerly accepted her offer to come back later so they could process these revelations.

Later, as memories started to return to them while exploring The Abyss, Ghost realized why they became more attached to the Weaverlings after realizing they were made, not born. The vessels were the same, creations thought to lack hearts to break, and abandoned when their creators fled the infection to save themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I headcanon Hornet as autistic, and someone with a flair for dramatics. Both aspects lead to her developing elaborate scripts to prepare for even potential encounters. Which explains why her speech is so overly formal compared to everyone else.
> 
> The Weaverlings are the ones that I actually use most of the time. They're cuter than Grimmchild, yes, every stage, without the heavy drawbacks of the cutest children, the hatchlings. They're also good at generating SOUL when combined with Grubsong and, like all the children, can deal steady damage while ignoring armor. I add Sprintmaster and Unbreakable Strength to make them more fearsome.
> 
> Edit: Don't bother commenting if you have a problem with my Hornet interpretation. We've only seen her, and really, every other character, a few times throughout the game and don't know much about most of them. There's a lot of room for interpretation. I don't want to turn off comments but it's starting to kill my mood for writing for this game.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to post everything all in one chapter, but the Grimmchild section wasn't coming to me and I was excited to share the other two. The Weaverlings chapter is about twice as long as the Hatchlings'. Probably because it has more character interactions.
> 
> The image isn't canon to this fic but it still looks nice and writing this was inspired by the same feelings that inspired drawing that. And it would be nice to have a big, happy family. I don't actually play with the aspid-vessels much because they rapidly use up the soul I usually use for healing and I don't like my cute little babies killing themselves either.
> 
> Look at the link for an uncropped, full-size version. And for my art blog.
> 
> https://cloudydayjoy.tumblr.com/post/633719517387882496/i-wish-i-was-skilled-enough-to-play-like-this


End file.
